Dollhouse
by NovemberDoll
Summary: At the bottom of the night, when all is quiet and no one is watching, the immortal toy collector's beloved treasures come to life. Tonight they are restless: he has brought in a very special parcel, and it is up to his favorite doll Sesshomaru and his ragtag band to keep the package- and its precious contents- safe, from devious marionettes and monster cats, until daybreak.


_**A/N:**_ Hahaha!I really shouldn't be writing anything new. But I'll update this month with the other fics, as I said. For this I intended to be a one shot. If anything its either I'll stop here, or make this a 3-shot. I don't know yet, honestly.

* * *

 _ **Enchanted Manor**_

* * *

"Sesshomaru," the Master of the Manor said as he cradled the small box in the palm of his pale, eternally young hands, "she is finally here."

His face was hidden in the shadows of the dim light, his hands stroking the package longingly as a lover does to his precious, soft woman. A sigh escaped his lips- the master had been waiting for two years for its creation, and the old dollmaker, as patient as he was, had listened to every detail he wanted on her- from the fall of her hair to the haughtiness of her small chin, down to her little toes.

He wanted her to be perfect. She was to be a gift, after all, to the one he truly loved,

and perfect she came out to be.

A smile broke on the master's lips as he set the box down, beside an impeccably crafted, resin-material ball-jointed doll, with white hair and golden eyes. The beautiful doll, clad in white silk and armor, was posed outside the glass case where it usually sat, the master had set him out only for this special time. He picked the doll up so very carefully, straightening the real silk that clothed its lifelike form.

"Inside that box is your intended," he said, as realistic golden eyes seemed to be looking back at him with life. "I have found the one whom I will spend my eternity with, so it is only rightful that you have yours."

With gentle hands he opened the glass shelf and placed him at the very top, above all other dolls, he treasured him the most. Meticulously he tended to the little details of his favorite doll's position, adjusting the tilt of his head, the whimsy of his hands, the bend of his knees. "You should have seen the look on the dollmaker's face, Sesshomaru, when I came to him three years ago to have our little Rin-chan restored. " He pushed the doll's chin slightly up, to get just the perfect level of pride he wanted to see.

Taking two steps back to check his handiwork, the master put two fingers on his chin, excessively critical with the set of his doll's position. With a subtle shake of his head he reached forward to rectify the doll's gaze a little sideways.

"As I was saying, Sesshomaru, the dollmaker. Since I had you last commissioned ninety years ago- imagine his surprise when he saw me as I am now! He had grown old and weary. And when I came back to him a year after Rin-chan's restoration to have our pretty little commission, he told me he stopped making dolls centuries ago." He paused as he arranged the little doll's hands tediously.

"But when I told him about how I found my love, he agreed to get back to his craft, one last time. And here she is." he placed a gentle hand on the box, "Now you have someone to help you watch over the dollhouse. Someone to warm your days with a smile, to heat your body in those cold nights. Someone to love and cherish.

You will love her, Sesshomaru, the moment you lay eyes on her, just like what happened to me with my love... and you will never be lonely again." the master sighed, his thoughts to his woman, such a regret she wouldn't be with him to warm his bed for the night!

"But before everything else, we have to wait until daybreak. That is when the Mistress of the Manor finally moves in, and I shall unbox this little surprise for her," He paused, a contemplative hand hovering over the box. "I do hope she appreciates this gift," he said.

"Who would have known, that an immortal like me was there all along, right under my nose?" With one last adjustment to his doll's silky white hair, he closed the tempered glass door over Sesshomaru's impeccably flawless form. He quietly observed the figurines in the glass case-

A whole collection of ball jointed dolls, each with their own detail and life. With one last look at his favorite doll at the top of the shelf, satisfied with the strand of his hair falling over his shoulders, the small hand hovering over his intricately crafted sword, the Master of the Manor turned off the lights of the massive library. Moonlight instantly flooded into the room, spilling into the glass case, creating a disturbing, miniature silhouette of lifelike figures waiting in the dark.

"Goodnight, my treasures." He quietly stepped into the shadows and closed the door behind him.

All was quiet and still, the ticking of the grandfather clock rebellious against the immense silence. The fall of dust from the old books and tomes, towering all the way to the high ceilings, glittered gold from the spill of the moonlight from the closed grand windows.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, stirred in the darkness of the night.

Then the clock struck twelve, and the chime bounced through the endless walls. The chandelier from the impossibly high ceiling flickered, and the grand windows rattled from outside, the wind desperately wanting in the magic that was happening in that very room.

Little flames lit the candles of the old chandelier, bathing the library with an eerie glow of moonlight and flame. The shadows that flickered with the darkness danced, creeping into nooks and crannies, and a subtle, enchanted wind emerged from the ancient fixture-

It crept into the glass case, breathing life into the expensive, antique miniatures that were so carefully preserved and restored and fixed, over and over again, to maintain their perfection, all throughout the years.

With the enchanted wind slowly creeping back to where it came from, a small hand- one from the miniatures- ticked, the movement setting a trigger as the other miniatures opened their eyes, finally awakened from their slumber. Slowly their resin-cast stiffness and ball-ended limbs transformed into soft skin and real flesh and mobile joints, and their cold, bloodless bodies pulsed warmly with the magic of the night.

They looked up, to see if he was awake.

The doll at the topmost shelf, the one with white hair and golden eyes, finally stirred, and they smiled as he strode forward and reached up, pushing the hilt of his sword against the hinge of the lock,

and the glass case opened, ready for another magical night.

* * *

The lady doll with the pirate costume and an eye patch jumped from the second tier of the glass case, stretching her stiffened limbs and let out an uncouth yawn. Someone smacked her from behind and she instantly drew her scabbard, pointing directly to the throat of a naval officer-clad doll, who raised his hands up in defense.

"Ironic, Miroku, how you are supposed to be my sworn enemy," she sneered angrily at the officer, from which he laughed apologetically.

"Now, Sango- you don't want to give me any more scratches tonight from that sword of yours, would you? The poor Master of the Manor, you wouldn't want him to fret over in the morning about a new imperfection in his collection,"

With clenched jaws Sango held her sword back, getting her self-restraint in check.

"Besides," Miroku added, straightening the insignia and pins decorated on his breast, "Was I not presented as your intended, four decades ago? Yet until now you deny me,"

Sango huffed. "I just wished you would be more subtle, that's all." she murmured, and the officer reached out to her but they were interrupted by sudden darting figures. Distracted, they followed the small miniature's forms as it headed straight to the parcel that was set behind the stack of books, and Sango and Miroku looked at each other, an excited glint reflecting in their glossy eyes.

They rushed to the middle of the table, stepping over giant pens, careful not to spill the vat of ink that was placed by the side of the towering stack of parchments.

Before the wooden box sat the small figures of Rin and Shippo, child dolls dressed in medieval European, holding hands as they stared up at the precious package with a twinkle of curiosity in their eyes.

"Do you think she is pretty, like Sango, or Kikyo-dono?" Rin turned eagerly to her companion, and Shippo turned to her, equally curious.

"I don't know, Rin-chan." Shippo answered, "But the Master of the Manor said he waited for two years until Sesshomaru-sama's dollmaker got her just right,"

Rin brought her gaze back to the box, and her eyes widened in wonder.

Sango smiled as she strode towards the two children, their hands still intertwined with each other, and she playfully patted Rin's short hair. "Probably as beautiful as little Rin-chan here," Sango said, and the two children looked up at her at the same time and smiled.

Something shifted from above them, and the group held their gazes up.

High on the stack of books was a woman-doll with straight black hair and cold grey eyes, garbed in a traditional Japanese Miko outfit, her red hakama flaring in the air as she jumped down to the wooden table, her bow and arrow quiver shaking in her landing.

"Kikyo-dono," Rin acknowledged, the Miko answering with a formal nod.

"Good to see you all here." Kikyo said, "At least the package is concealed from the Marionettes with these stack of books, who knows what nefarious ideas get into their heads."

Sango and Miroku silently agreed. For centuries, the Marionettes had looked upon them with envy in their glass case, and their leader, Naraku, had relentlessly tried to find ways to damage them so that they would lose favor with the Master of the Manor. They had already lost countless dolls over time-

Broken and shattered on the floor, flung out the window, dragged and dismembered by giant beasts. At first the master would try and have them restored, but later he would grow excessively picky. He was never satisfied with the restoration. The lacquer formula would be different,

The shade of eyes a tad lighter-

Too smooth, too rough,

put in a smile, put no smile, where was that melancholy as she gazes into me?

and so the master did not bother to restore any of the dolls.

In his immense frustration, he would have the broken dolls completely destroyed.

Rin-chan was lucky, when she fell from the dollhouse tower three years ago, and her poor little chest shattered into bits and pieces on the marble floor. Their master found someone to restore her to his satisfaction, which was extremely rare.

And so they stared at the wooden box before them, overjoyed. It had been so long since a new doll was introduced. The last one added to his collection were Rin and Shippo, and that was twenty-nine years ago.

"Where is he, anyway?" a gruff voice asked from the stack of books above. Casually sitting on the edge with one leg propped up and the other one swinging back and forth was a swordsman wearing a red haori. "Sesshomaru," he clarified. "He should be here for her unboxing."

"Unboxing? Now?" Kikyo raised a brow. "The master wants her unboxed at daybreak, Inuyasha. What is going through your mind?"

"The Master's brother-in-law is here to stay the night, and he has brought his beast of a cat with him." Inuyasha stood up, "That doll will be more vulnerable inanimate in that box than moving with the currents of magic alongside us." He pointed to Rin. "We don't want _that_ to happen again."

Inuyasha suddenly stopped as the tall figure of the Master's favorite doll loomed over his form. "Do what you want," Sesshomaru said as he brushed past the samurai and leaped, landing quietly on the wood surface in between Kikyo and Sango. "I don't care less."

Sesshomaru strode past his underlings, past the wooden box with an indifferent avert to his eyes, and stopped by the edge of the table, scanning the perimeter in high alert for any anomalies. The dolls looked at each other and merely shrugged, and little Rin and Shippo broke off their hands from each other to excitedly run at each side of the standing box.

With eager smiles they started to push the cover open.

Sesshomaru looked away, angered.

Why would the master think he needed a companion to look after them? For almost a hundred years he had been the sole protector of the dollhouse and his miniatures. He did not need any 'help.'

If anything, the contents of the parcel would be yet another burden to take care of, a useless, fragile miniature that was ready to break under the slightest pressure.

"Wow, she sure is secured tight," Sesshomaru could hear Shippo's small voice complain, and Rin's little grunts as they attempted to push the top covering off. His gaze flicked to the large dollhouse overhead, by the wall of the library.

That intricately crafted dwelling was also one of the sources of the Marionette's envy.

At least the master had locked the sides, for the night it would serve its purpose and not have them exposed. The open portion was closed off, making it look like a real mansion to their little doll eyes.

"Let me help you," Sango interjected, and in a little more moments, he could hear the commotion as the entire group noisily tried to open the box.

Vexed by the infernal ruckus they conjured, an irritated Demon Lord stood up and clenched his teeth. "Enough of that," he commanded. "Just leave that damn box outside and we'll try to protect it from here-"

his voice trailed off, upon seeing the scene before him.

The lid of the box was on the floor, and his group, he realized, was eerily silent as they stared up at the mysterious contents that stood quietly before them.

They had fallen into a deep trance.

It was only when little Rin caught her breath again did the dead silence recover. "Sesshomaru-sama," she said as she stepped four paces back and held Shippo's small hand,

"She's beautiful," the children said in eerie unison.

Sesshomaru's golden eyes widened ever so subtly.

"You've got to see her," Inuyasha jumped down from the stack, unwittingly reaching out to touch the content's hidden face, mesmerized.

A firm hand stopped the spellbound samurai.

It was Sesshomaru himself.

"You have your intended." Sesshomaru snarled in low warning, "don't touch what is mine."

Kikyo pulled Inuyasha away, and slowly the master's favorite turned around, and he raised his gaze.

Inside the box, nestled in silks and fine paper was his sleeping intended, her skin of pale white resin emitting an ethereal glow under the direct moonlight. Her inky black hair framed her small, beautiful face, and a light tinge of red was painted on her smooth cheeks, giving her an eternal blush that Sesshomaru couldn't help but reach out to.

He was drawn to her, his feet moving on its own.

He closed the gap between them and hovered his face intimately close, touching her warm cheeks, testing the feel of her smooth skin in his hands.

From behind them, Sango slowly motioned to the rest of the group, and they nodded and walked away to give their leader some privacy. They headed to the dollhouse to prepare for the new doll's welcome, leaving the two intended lovers alone under the moonlight.

Sesshomaru did not notice. So consumed was he with the doll in front of him, and he realized he couldn't stop touching her. He gathered her in his arms, feeling her small body melt into his, the press of the swell of her soft breasts, the rise an fall of her chest against his, warming his entire being.

 _Mine_ , he thought, his dainty claws digging into her flesh possessively. The scent of her authentic hair was tickling his senses. He pulled away ever so slightly as he felt his intended's hand move.

Long, thick lashes fluttered open, and her blue eyes connected straight to his.

"Hello," she said as she blinked her ethereal slumber away, and he did not let her go. "My name is Kagome," she said, unthreatened by the stranger that was holding her oh so close. She tilted her head sideways in innocent curiosity, her big doe eyes drowning him.

"Are you my Sesshomaru?"

Sesshomaru's hands ran from her neck, following the curve of her spine, to the ample swell of her derriere. He squeezed the flesh daringly and pulled her to him, "What if I'm not?" he challenged.

The beautiful woman-doll brought her small hands up and caressed his face. "Then I would be heartbroken," she said, and Sesshomaru bent down and ghosted his lips against hers.

"Why?" he purred. The little doll clothed in silks similar to his, sighed from her pretty pink lips.

"Because I already love you," she said, ever so casually, and Sesshomaru growled as he dipped down, claiming her lips on his own. She was sweet, and intoxicating,

 _And mine._

"Yes," he said, for she deserved an answer. She deserved everything he could offer. "I am him."

Sesshomaru captured her little tongue and swirled it on his own and she willingly obeyed, his arms crushing her small waist too close. He was dominating and she was submitting, and the little woman-doll gasped as he shoved her back into the box, attacking her relentless, impatiently undoing the ribbons that held her silks together.

The box, without any support behind, tipped, and she came crashing onto her back, into a bed of silk and paper. The golden-eyed doll landed over her fragile body.

He shifted all his weight on her, and he watched the play of flame and moonlight on her pretty face, and he intimately stroked her exposed thigh.

The demon-lord doll bent down to impose another sweet taste when someone from outside the box cleared his throat, announcing his presence. With a frustrated clench to his perfect jaw, he sat up, straddling his intended underneath him, looking over from inside the box and glared.

"Err, sorry..." Miroku sought apologetically, "but they sent me here to tell you that the dollhouse is ready, Sesshomaru-sama."

"Very well," Sesshomaru hid back into the box, and Miroku stalked away.

"Let me carry you to the dollhouse." he whispered, and Kagome shook her pretty little head.

"I need to learn how to walk," she said, and he nodded. He kissed her forehead tenderly before releasing his weight off her hips, and he helped her up, her knees wobbly and shaking.

The master's favorite doll held her hand, content to be the one beside her as she took her first steps.

And he would wait patiently,

For the Master of the Manor was right. She was someone, the only one - he will love and cherish,

and he will never be lonely again.


End file.
